The Only One Who Stayed Alive
by notmariah7
Summary: An "AU" I possibly made up in which all of Alexander's friends died, and now their ghosts won't leave him alone. Also a modern AU. Sadder than it sounds, I swear. I cried while writing this. I hope you do too.
1. Chapter 1: Lafayette and Hercules

_**October 17th**_

Alexander had given up on trying to go back to sleep long ago. His room was too cold, and the blankets kept falling off of the bed.

That was wrong.

The blankets kept getting _pulled_ off of the bed.

Yes, that was it.

The laughter that rang out every time the blankets were yanked away was too loud for him to sleep through anyway.

Alex looked at the clock. 3:15. That made sense. They were always strongest from around 3 to 4 in the morning for some reason.

He hadn't gotten much sleep in the past few months.

Alex sat up, groaned, and rubbed exhaustion from his eyes, deciding it would be better to just get up than to lie to himself, saying he could fall asleep if he ignored them. But, of course, he wouldn't get any sleep, and he most definitely couldn't ignore them.

"You guys suck," Alex muttered as he stood and walked out of his room.

 _"You're no fun."_ A dim, pale blue light appeared out of the corner of Alexander's eye. It started as just that light, then it turned into a cloud-like mass, then, when Alex glanced behind him despite his better judgement, Peggy was there.

Or, rather, Peggy's ghost was there.

She looked just like Peggy did just before she died. They all did.

No, they didn't. And thank God they didn't. Alex didn't think he would be able to handle having to see them everyday if they all looked like they did when they died.

To correct their descriptions, they all looked like they did the day before they died, clothes and all. Except, the colors were muted, as if someone had mixed too much white and light blue paint with the colors of their hair and skin. They were fairly transparent, and light blue wisps of fog trailed after them wherever they went. Though it looked like they were walking, they really just floated smoothly over the ground, or, sometimes, they would be on the other side of the room, then they would suddenly be right next to him. Their voices echoed a bit, almost like three voices were speaking at once, layered over one another so that one was always a half-second behind, one was always a half-second ahead, and the one in the middle was the clearest, most _them_ sounding.

Their eyes were the worst, though. The colorful, joy-filled, glimmering eyes that Alex had come to trust and love...now they were just white balls of light. Literally blank stares that bored deep into Alexander's soul.

Alexander hated everything about them.

"Can't you just let me get one full night of sleep?" Alex begged the air around him as he made himself a cup of coffee.

 _"But you won't get to see us if you are asleep."_ Lafayette had appeared now as well; his thick French accent could be recognized from a mile away. Without looking, Alex knew that Hercules was there too. They always showed up together; they had died at the same time.

"You're all already in my nightmares." Alex raised the cup of steaming coffee to his lips, splashing some on himself when he jumped in surprise because John was right in front of him all of a sudden.

 _"You dream about me?"_ Alexander imagined John's eyes filling with mirth and amusement at the question. Alex had known for years that John had liked him a little more than a friend. Maybe Alex had liked him like that, too. Maybe he should have acted on that when he had the chance.

Maybe he could have saved one of them.

No point in thinking about that now. After all, John was dead, and his eyes weren't filled with anything but air.

"Unfortunately..." Alex finally answered. He only saw John pouting at him for a moment before he turned away. He tiredly shuffled over to the couch and turned on the TV in an attempt to distract himself. Static. Of course. He turned the television back off, stood, turned around, and sighed in frustration at the sight of Eliza and Angelica.

 _"Sorry,"_ Eliza said quietly. She was always quiet. _"I wish I knew how to stop that from happening."_ She was referring to the static on the TV screen. Eliza was the only one of them who was always trying to be nice to him. She would help him clean up the messes the others made as well as she could, and try to fix any mistakes she made herself.

Alexander always felt so much worse when that happened. Every time they acted like themselves, for a fleeting moment, Alex's subconscious screamed at him, saying that it was them. That they were back. That he should hug them and smile and be happy again.

But it wasn't them. They hadn't been themselves for so long. Whenever they appeared, it was like a cruel joke was being played on Alex. That's what he thought it was when it had started, at least.

* * *

 _ **May 13th**_

Five minutes away. They were five minutes away when it happened. John and Alex got there as fast as they could, having to run half of the way because of the traffic that had been caused. The sisters were there by then, and Alex already knew what had happened before he saw the tears running down their faces. His train of thought flying off the rails, he only caught bits and pieces of what the girls and police told him.

 _...Laf and Herc..._

 _...car crash..._

 _...dead on impact..._

His chest tightened until it hurt. He watched John gasp and cover his mouth, then fall to his knees, sobbing. The sisters held each other tightly. Alexander just...stood there. He didn't know what to do. He felt like he _should_ be doing something, for sure, but he didn't know what. He certainly _wanted_ to cry, but he couldn't. Shock was what this was. He understood that. When he found his cousin hanging from the ceiling fan one day, he had gone into shock. He felt the same numbness after the hurricane, too. However, he had cried when his mother had passed away. Alex guessed that was because his mother was close to him. Lafayette and Hercules had been close to him as well.

He finally cried that night instead of sleeping.

 ** _\/\/_**

Alexander was relieved when the funeral ended. He hated funerals. There were too many sad people in one place for him to be anywhere near comfortable. The fact that his friends were in the caskets didn't help.

He didn't go to the burial. He felt too sick.

He managed to work up the strength to go to their graves a couple days later. He had gone by himself, mainly because he wanted to, but also because John had locked himself in his room.

The cemetery was quiet. Serene. Alex couldn't remember the last time he had been to one of these. Maybe when he last went to his mother's grave. Maybe when John had taken them all to _his_ mother's grave. Didn't matter which. His brain wouldn't let him remember anything right now anyway. He just hoped he wouldn't have to come to one of these again anytime soon.

Their graves were right next to each other. Convenient was not a word Alex had expected to use in this situation. The grass hadn't grown over them yet, so mounds of dirt clearly outlined where the boys rested. Forever, Alexander was reminded. He knelt down in between the two of them, his eyes slowly reading the neatly-written names on the headstones.

The names of his friends, whom he'll never see again.

He cried again.

Grief is a strange thing. Alex chose not to call it an emotion, instead calling it a _thing_. It was a monster that lurked behind you during all of your waking moments, making you too paranoid to sleep. It was a dark cloud that blinded you, keeping you from concentrating on anything but what had happened. It made you hear things and see things and feel things that weren't there.

At least, he assumed grief was doing that.

 _ **\/\/**_

It started with whispers. Little, barely heard voices in the back of Alexander's head. Alex had ignored them at first, passing them off as his own thoughts and imagination.

But then they weren't in his head anymore.

About two weeks after _it_ happened, Alex was sitting next to John when he first noticed something wrong.

 _"Alex..."_ The voice was faint, tired, raspy. Alexander barely understood what had been said.

"Yeah?" Alex answered.

"What?" John sounded confused.

"Didn't you say something?"

"No."

 _"Alexander..."_ Alex looked around the room.

"What's wrong?" John asked.

"I keep hearing something," Alex replied. "Someone talking." He and John concentrated on trying to hear whatever it was.

After a minute, John said, "I don't-"

 _"Alex...John..."_

"There it is!" The voice had gotten louder, clearer.

"I didn't hear anything," John mentioned. "Are you okay, Alex? You look exhausted."

"I'm sure you feel wonderful, too," Alexander said without thinking. When he saw John's crestfallen face, he mentally cringed. "Sorry," he muttered, "I just..."

"I know." John whispered. He reached over and wrapped his arms around Alex, sighing into his ear. "I miss them so much," John choked out. Alex nodded in agreement, feeling a few of John's tears fall onto him.

Meanwhile, he tried to desperately ignore his name being called again.

 _ **\/\/**_

Alexander woke up because he was cold. Too cold. Especially since he was under blankets in a heated room in late May.

 _"Alex..."_ Alex squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, pulling the blankets up.

"No..." Alex groaned, not wanting to wake up.

 _"Alexander..."_

"Five more minutes." The blankets were torn off of him. " _What the hell Jo_ -"

The room was empty.

"Wha- _ah_!" Alex shielded his eyes from the sudden bright light that filled the room. After a moment, the light dimmed and became focused in one area of the room, at the end of Alexander's bed. He moved his arm down, and almost screamed.

Almost. He must have gone into shock again.

Because at the foot of his bed stood Hercules and Lafayette, staring at him with cold, blank eyes.

 _"Hello, Alexander..."_ Lafayette said softly, his voice echoing slightly. Alex saw him and Hercules smile crookedly before the world went dark.

 _ **\/\/**_

When he woke up again, they were still there. Still staring at him. Alex scrambled out of bed, backing himself against the wall.

"What the fuck...?" Alexander muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. He watched wide-eyed as the glowing Lafayette sat on his bed, and the foggy Hercules picked up a pillow. Even they looked confused, like they were testing the waters of their own existences. "I'm dreaming, right? I better be dreaming..."

 _"Trust us,"_ Hercules said, _"we don't get it either."_

"Are...are you..."

 _"I...believe so..."_ Lafayette replied.

"Oh...oh my God...I'm gonna throw up..."

 _"Deep breaths, Alexander. Calm down."_

"Don't tell me to calm down." Alex demanded, shaking. "You...you're...you aren't..."

 _"We know,"_ Hercules said sadly. _"We're...we're dead."_

"Don't say it, please."

 _"Alex..."_ Lafayette stood, taking a gliding step towards the living being in the room.

" _Please_ ," Alexander begged. He was hyperventilating, shaking, scared out of his mind. "You two are _dead_. We all went to your _funeral_. I saw your _graves_. It's been _weeks_ , and we've all felt _horrible_...and then you come back to haunt us so we can't get over it?!" He covered his face with his hands. "Or maybe I'm just going insane...I think that would be better, honestly."

 _"Would you rather we weren't here?"_ Lafayette wondered.

"Not like this!"

 _"It's not like we have a choice,"_ Hercules stated.

"I get that." Alex shook his head. "You are so lucky I already have dreams like this, otherwise I would be screaming. What...What are the others going to say?" Herc and Laf glanced at each other.

 _"They cannot see us,"_ Lafayette said.

 _"We tried to talk to John, but he didn't hear us,"_ Hercules added. _"And we can't leave for some reason, so we can't see the sisters-"_

 _"Are they alright? Did they...do they miss us?"_ Alexander blinked.

"Of course they do. We all do. Which is why it sucks that you're here." Alex surprised himself with his ability to console dead people. "I feel like I'm being teased, like-like you're dangling on a string in front of me. And if they can't see you, then I hate that _I_ can."

 _"We are so sorry, Alexander. We didn't want to-"_

"Don't."

 _"We didn't want to go."_

"That doesn't help."

 _"We miss you, too."_

"Shut up." Alex's vision blurred with tears.

 _"We love you, Alex."_

" _Shut up_!"

"Alex?" Alexander whipped around at John's voice, thankful to see someone tangible. He hugged John tightly, trying to calm down. "Woah, Alex, what's wrong? You were yelling." Alex looked around, seeing that the room was devoid of any dead friends.

"I saw...I thought I saw them..." A sob escaped his throat before he knew it was coming.

"What?"

"I...they were there. They talked to me...they...they..."

"Alex." John gently took hold of Alexander's face, forcing their eyes to meet. "Who are you talking about?" Alex hesitated.

"...Laf and Herc..." Alex muttered. John's breath hitched.

"Alex..." John sighed. "You know they're-"

"I know. But, I swear-"

"Alex-"

"John, I-"

" _Alex_." John closed his eyes and took in an unsteady breath. "I know you miss them. I do, too. But...they aren't there, okay? You're just imagining things because you're sad, alright?" He pulled Alex closer to his chest. "They aren't there anymore." Alex choked on a cry. "Come on. Let's get you back to bed."

"No," Alexander whispered, afraid that he had been dreaming, and not wanting to go back to that. John sighed again.

"Come here." John tugged Alex across the hall to his room, and held him close for the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2: Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy

_**October 17th**_

They followed him to school sometimes. He always hated that. Then again, he hated that they were there at all.

On the days he was followed, Alexander's pencils would roll off his desk every five minutes, or his papers would scatter across the floor, or he would trip, or one of them would try to throw something at Jefferson. They were never strong enough to actually hit him with anything, thankfully. Alex guessed that was because it was the middle of the day and they were in public.

On the days he wasn't followed, Alex felt numb. Hollow. Something was missing, and he almost longed for whatever it was, but he was also relieved that it was gone.

They always came back, though.

Hercules and Lafayette had been killed just before the previous school year had ended, so everyone already knew about them. John had died just before school had started again. The girls had gone not too long before him. When people found out what had happened over the summer, they all pitied Alex.

He hated being pitied.

He started going to school about a week after it had begun, and he almost wished he hadn't gone at all. People stared at him, whispered about him, apologised to him for things they didn't know about and couldn't control.

Jefferson had talked to him one day. The last time Alex had seen him was at the funeral almost four months prior. He and Laf were cousins, after all.

Alexander could barely remember what Jefferson had said to him. Something nice, probably. It wasn't like it mattered what he said anyway. Alex's friends were gone, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

He couldn't pay attention anyway; John was making faces behind Jefferson's back. That hurt almost as much as Eliza trying to be nice.

Alex had smiled faintly and nodded, walking away from Jefferson and into some corner behind some building.

He cried again.

That was the one time they left him alone: when he cried.

* * *

 ** _July 20th_**

It had been two months since they had died, and Laf and Herc still hadn't left him alone for longer than an hour. Alex was starting to hate them. They kept moving his stuff, and appearing and talking to him at random points in the day. Most of the time, however, they would just stand in the corner, or stand next to each other and stare out the window. Alex would watch them when they did that sometimes, and he would always feel like he was invading their privacy.

Then John would ask if he was alright, saying that he was zoning out. Alexander would say that be was fine.

That was a lie, and they both knew it.

One night, Alex had to leave his room, it being too loud and cold for him to sleep. He lay on the couch, turned on the news, and eventually closed his eyes.

And then his eyes shot open again, and he sat up so fast he went dizzy. He turned the volume up on the TV as his heart dropped.

 _...an hour ago..._

 _...house fire..._

 _...Angelica and Elizabeth Schuyler were found dead..._

 _...the youngest daughter, Margarita "Peggy" Schuyler, died in the hospital..._

 _No, no, no, no, no._

He cried out to John, who came running a moment later. Alex could hear John's heart shatter when he saw what had happened. This time, Alexander was the one to cry while John stood in immovable silence.

The television crackled, static appearing on the screen. Alex shivered and hurried to turn the TV off, then dropped his head into his hands. John slowly sat next to him and gently wrapped an arm around him. Alex sobbed even harder at the contact.

They slept together on the couch that night, with Hercules and Lafayette standing behind them.

 _ **\/\/**_

 _"Maybe they'll come back like us,"_ Lafayette grinned, as if that would lighten the mood.

"I hope not," Alexander replied. He had, oddly enough, gotten used to talking to Laf and Herc, especially since John had locked himself in his room a week ago.

 _"Why not?"_

"Because it's hard to deal with the fact that you're dead if you're constantly right in front of me, you bastard."

 _"Okay, rude."_

"Deal with it." A pillow was launched at Alex's face. He just glared at them as the laughed.

He hated when they laughed. They sounded too much like them. Too happy to be dead.

 _ **\/\/**_

Alex knew they were there before they even showed themselves.

He kept seeing things out of the corner of his eyes. It wasn't Herc or Laf, he knew that. But he kept seeing a wisp of light or a flash of color, and then he turned and nothing was there.

He started to hear footsteps, too. Someone would walk around, and when Alex looked down the hall, it was empty.

He felt so paranoid all the time. He probably looked paranoid, too. He'd barely gotten any sleep, he was always shivering, and his eyes were constantly darting around.

He was so scared of what was to come.

 _ **\/\/**_

Alex was in the kitchen when John finally came out of his room. His hair was down in a tangled mess, his eyes were red, and the bags under them were a dark purple.

"Hey, John," Alexander said. "How are you holding up?" John didn't answer. He simply walked up to Alex, hugging him tightly.

"Are you doing alright?" John asked, avoiding the question.

 _"Tell him we miss him,"_ Lafayette begged in Alex's ear.

"No," Alex answered both of them.

"Me neither."

 _"Alex, please."_

" _Why_?" Alex groaned.

"I don't know..."

 _"Alex, the girls are gone now, too,"_ Hercules added.

"I guess...you know..."

 _"Just give him some closure."_

"That whole 'these things happen' bullshit." Alex just shook his head.

 _"Alex..."_

 _"Please."_ Alexander shut his eyes, trying to block them out.

 _"Why don't you just do this for us?"_ The voices grew louder, meaner.

 _"Do you hate us or something?"_ Alex tightened his grip on John's waist.

"I'm starting to," Alex mumbled under his breath.

 _"Why?"_

"What did you say?"

 _"We're your best friends, Alexander."_

"Not anymore."

"Alex, what are you talking about?"

 _"He's hurting, Alex. Just help him."_

"He wouldn't...I can't..."

"Alex? What's wrong?"

 _"Alexander!"_

" _Shut up!_ " Alex grabbed a coffee mug from off the table and chucked it at the wall that Lafayette and Hercules had been standing in front of. They were gone now. John jumped back in surprise as the cup smashed against the wall, breaking into pieces.

"...Alex? Are-are you...seeing them again?" Alex nodded slowly.

"They haven't stopped," Alex said shakily, holding the sides of his head.

"Alex...you know-"

"I know. They're gone. They _should be_ gone. But they don't care." John stared at him in fear.

"I...Alex, I think-and I'm sorry to say this-I think something might be wrong with you." Alex scowled at him.

"I know what I'm seeing, John."

"Please don't get mad at me about this." John's voice was small and frightened. He already sounded like he was going to break, and Alexander wasn't helping.

"I'm sorry...I just...I just want to be alone for five minutes." He had been talking about the spirits that had been following him, but John nodded shyly and headed back to his room. Alex almost told him to come back. He wanted him to come back. But he also didn't want John to watch him as he slipped into insanity.

He sat down, dropping his head onto the table. After about six seconds of silence, the whispers started again. Alex heard a distinct _"Shh!"_

They were _trying_ to be quiet.

A faint scratching noise sounded from behind him, stopping and starting and stopping over and over again. Alex looked up to see the pieces of the mug moving across the floor one-by-one, as if they didn't want to be obvious. They were slowly collecting themselves into a pile. Alex sighed.

"I know that you're there." The movement and whispers halted all at once. "You haven't left me alone for two months. You really think I wouldn't notice-" He froze. _No, no, no. Not you._

 _"Hi, Alex,"_ Eliza whispered. She gently put down a piece of the shattered porcelain. Alex couldn't speak or move or breathe. He felt like he should be used to this by now, but how could someone get accustomed to seeing their dead friends?

"How...how are you..."

 _"Dead or a ghost?"_ Alexander spun around in his chair at Angelica's reverberating voice. She stood there, holding herself as high as she did when she was alive, with a hand on her hip, as if she had never died. _"I don't know,"_ she continued, studying her hand. _"Both are pretty surprising."_

"None of you act like you're surprised."

 _"It's been over a week."_

"Good for you. At least _you_ can deal with the fact that you're dead." Eliza turned her head down.

 _"We can't, really,"_ Eliza mumbled. _"It's so sad. We don't want to be dead."_

"You think we don't feel the same way?" Alex fought to keep his voice down. "John and I are the only ones left. We've had to deal with the five of you being gone all by ourselves, and it's been _torture_. John's been depressed since Laf and Herc, and you three made him worse. The fact that I can see you is so painful for so many reasons, and I feel like I'm going insane." Tears welled up in his eyes. "We miss you so much."

 _"We're so sorry, Alex,"_ Angelica said. _"You know we wouldn't have left you alone if we could have."_

 _"It just happened so fast."_ Across the room, Peggy materialized out of no where. _"We just...fell asleep, woke up to a lot of heat and light, and then...we were asleep again. No one saw it coming."_

"You're _trying_ to make me sad now, aren't you?"

Eliza looked away again. _"Sorry..."_


	3. Chapter 3: John Laurens-Part One

_**October 18th**_

Sometimes, when he woke up, Alex was enveloped in the cold like a blanket, and a chilly breath brushed against his neck. He knew who was holding him every time, though he rarely showed himself when he did.

John was always a bit different from the others. He usually appeared alone, or at least, away from the others, watching them all from afar. He didn't talk much, especially not to Alex. Alex didn't like to talk to him anyway. He showed himself even less. Alex didn't want to see him either.

But he was always there. Alex could feel his presence whether or not he could be seen. He was colder than the others. Before Alexander had figured out why it happened, he would feel sad for no reason in the middle of the day. It was a soul-deep black abyss kind of sadness that hurt his chest and made him cry without him thinking about anything depressing in particular.

That was John.

Alex wondered if John-or any of them, for that matter-would follow him when he left college. After all, John was almost always in his own room.

Alex also couldn't tell how John felt about the others. He had missed them when they had first gone, but now his feelings were very unclear. Sometimes, John seemed so happy to be around them all again, but sometimes he resented them. He would brood in the corner while the others bothered Alex, or argue with them about how he had died because they had. They'd have to remind him that that their deaths couldn't have been stopped. That John's could have been. John blamed Alexander then.

 _"You could've helped me, Alex,"_ John would say. _"Why didn't you?"_

"I was dealing with my own issues that you didn't believe me about," Alex answered to the empty air.

 _"But you knew, Alex. You knew exactly what was going to happen and you didn't care."_

"I was _trying_ -"

 _"LIAR!"_ John smashed another cup. It was the fifth time that had happened.

He was like that. His emotions changed so much. The girls were never mad. Lafayette and Hercules would yell rarely. But John was often angry at so many things. He would throw and break things, slam the doors, and scream at the others until they disappeared, then scream at Alex until he screamed apologies back at him because he couldn't do anything else. Or he would break down and fall to his knees and cry.

And then John would calm down.

That was the other side of him.

If Alexander ever felt more upset than normal, or even as soon as he would begin to cry, John would go quiet and come close to him to give him a hug as best as he could.

 _"I'm sorry, Alex,"_ John whispered. _"I can't help it. I'm so sorry. Please don't cry._ _Please. I would be so sad for all eternity if you...if you..."_ John placed gentle, icy, literally ghosting kisses on Alex's face until he stopped crying. _"We promised each other, Alex. We can't let those promises be broken. Don't let yourself make the same mistakes."_

* * *

 ** _August 20th_**

It had been one month since the sisters had died. One, long, horrible month.

Angelica and Eliza were quiet, but they still gazed at Alexander with blank eyes like there was nothing better to do. Peggy had joined Hercules and Lafayette in their trouble making, unfortunately. She was the one to start the trend of pulling Alex's blankets off of him in the middle of the night.

Alex hated them so much.

His only saving grace was John, but he was hardly ever seen anymore. He was always in his room. Grieving. Like a normal person.

Alex wished he could do that.

When Alex did see John, they argued constantly. John never believed Alex when he was upset about the ghosts. Of course, why would he? But maybe he could at least be nice about it instead of saying that Alexander was _batshit crazy_ and should shut his _annoying goddamn mouth_ _for_ _five fucking minutes_. Maybe John could _just_ _try to understand_ that Alex was in _constant pain_ because of what may or may not be occurring in his head. Maybe Alex should try to _focus on the real world and the people in it who clearly feel more pain than he does_. Maybe John should _just leave_ Alex _alone_.

He didn't want to fight. He felt so bad about it. But, what else could he do?

He finally decided to apologize after so long.

He was learning how to hold himself back just enough to act like his friends weren't there when he was around John, for the most part. This was helpful when they followed him to John's room that night. Alex knocked on his bedroom door softly, chewing his lip with a tinge of fear.

 _"What are you doing?"_ Hercules asked.

"Apologizing," Alex whispered. There was no sound form the other side of the door, however, making him sigh.

 _"I think you upset him too much today, mon ami,"_ Laf said. He might have been right. Alexander was trying to choose between walking away or knocking again when he heard movement. The lock on the door clicked and Alex took a deep breath and the door slowly opened and there was John.

He had been crying again, that was obvious. He wore the same sweatshirt he had been since Herc and Lafayette had died. Alex knew he only wore that sweatshirt when he was sad.

He hated that sweatshirt.

John spoke before Alex could.

"What do you want, you piece of shit?"

 _"I told you so."_

"I'm sorry, John," Alex said with all the sincerity he could muster. "I shouldn't have said that to you earlier. I didn't mean any of it. The last thing I want is for you to leave." Alex noticed John suck in a breath and gulp nervously before he responded.

"I'm sorry, too," John mumbled as he pulled Alex into a hug. "Can you...can you stay with me tonight?"

"I'd love to."

 _"Aw!"_ Peggy cried. Alex rolled his eyes as he followed John to his bed. It wasn't like this was a big deal. John and Alexander had done this plenty of times when they were sad or scared and just needed someone to be with them. This usually occurred during a storm, but had been happening quite often recently. The two of them nestled under the covers next to each other, their faces inches apart.

"Alex, I'm gonna be honest with you," John started. "I haven't been doing well."

"I never expected that you would," Alex shrugged.

"Yeah, well, I...it's..." John sighed and looked away. "I'm _trying_ to get better."

"That's good." Alex smiled encouragingly, getting a grin in response. Though John's smiles were usually wide and accompanied by sparkling eyes, now it was small and weak, and his eyes only glistened with tears.

"Y-Yeah...I'm trying." John brushed a few stray hairs out of Alex's face. When he moved his arm, the sleeve of his sweatshirt fell a little, and Alex chose not to think about the scars his saw on his arm. He couldn't afford to think about that right now. "Can you promise me something, Alex?" Alex nodded. "Can you...can you promise that, no matter what has already happened, and no matter what happens in the future, you won't...do anything rash?"

"What do you mean?" Alex wondered, scared.

"You know what I mean."

 _"He's telling you not to kill yourself, you idiot,"_ Hercules stated. Alexander swallowed, deciding to ignore everyone but John for the rest of the night.

"Do you promise or not?" John continued, fiercely, as if he needed to know to survive. Alex thought for a moment. He actually had to _think_ about this.

"I promise," he finally answered.

"Do you promise never to break that promise?" Alex nodded.

"I swear I won't do that to you, John."

"No." John angrily shook his head. "You can say that if you want, but I want you to say you won't do that to yourself."

"Okay, I promise." Alexander was growing more and more frightened by his friends. The voices were saying something behind him, but he refused to listen. "Can you promise me the same thing?" John gazed at him with pain in his eyes.

"I can promise that I won't let anything happen to you," John said after a moment. Panic sparked in Alex's chest.

"That's not-"

"I love you too much to even imagine you not living your life in the best possible way." John choked out, making Alex freeze.

"John..." _I love you, too._ "You're scaring me."

"I'm sorry. Just...go to sleep, Alex."

"John-"

"I'll stay here all night...I promise."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"...Okay..." Alexander closed his eyes hesitantly, and eventually fell asleep.

At least, John must have thought he had, since he did some things he never would have done if he knew Alex was awake. He kissed Alex on the top of his head, then took a deep, terrified breath and spoke into the emptiness of the room with a shaking voice.

"If you guys are really there...I love you all so much. I'm so sorry."

* * *

 _ **August 27th**_

"Alex? Can you come here for a minute?"

In the past week, John had gotten better, according to Alex. They had been spending more time together, which certainly made Alex feel a bit happier. John had even started to smile more often. Everyone else was still there, but they kept to themselves for the most part.

When John called for him, Alex put his book on his nightstand and stood up, responding, "Coming!" When he stepped into John's room and saw him standing there with a smile on his face, Alex's heart immediately began beating faster.

Something was horribly wrong.

All at once, a wave of information rushed through Alexander's brain. Most of it being things he had subconsciously ignored during the past week.

1\. John had never taken his sweatshirt off, and he still wore it now.

2\. John's smile was too wide to be real.

3\. John's eyes were devoid of any emotion whatsoever. It was then that Alex realized that that blankness had been in his eyes ever since they found out about the girls.

4\. There was something in the pocket of his sweatshirt that was weighing the fabric down.

5\. He held a folded piece of paper in his hands.

6\. Alex had seen this coming

"What did you need, John?" Alexander pretended to be casual as the rest of them appeared, as if they felt the dread in the air.

"A few things, actually." John walked up to Alex, gently resting a hand in his shoulder. "Alex," he said quietly, "I'm so sorry."

"No." Alex tore himself away, making John frown. "No, you can't. You promised-"

" _You_ promised." John pushed the paper into Alex's hands.

"John, _no_ -"

"Read this when you can-"

"You can't do this-"

"Leave the dorm-"

" _You can't do this to me!_ "

"Call the police to come get me-"

" _John, please!_ "

"I'm sorry." John leaned down and kissed Alex softly on his lips, his faint smile being covered with tears. "Go." Alexander shook his head. "I can't let you be here for this."

"I can't let you do this!"

 _"Alexander, stop him!"_

"Alex, please. You're making this harder than it needs to be."

 _"Don't let him do this!"_

"This doesn't need to happen at all!"

 _"Don't let him go! Not like this!"_

" _Just leave!_ " John shoved Alex back out through the doorway, his side hitting the wall, _hard_. Before Alex could stand again, the door had been slammed closed. Before he could reach the doorknob, the gun had fired.

They were all screaming.

He couldn't breathe.

They were all surrounding him.

He couldn't move.

They were all dead.

He couldn't take it.

But he had a promise to keep.

But that promise couldn't stop him from crying.


	4. Chapter 4: John Laurens-Part Two

Alexander was frozen for so long that the police arrived before he had even picked up his phone. Someone else in the building must have heard. They came inside on their own because Alex was too petrified to get up to let them in. They were all talking to each other and to Alex but he covered his ears because he didn't want to hear any more voices. They asked him questions that he didn't want to answer but he did anyway.

 _...John Laurens..._

 _...suicide..._

 _...shot himself..._

 _...it's all my fault..._

They said that he shouldn't blame himself, but what else would he have done? Should he have acted like John's death couldn't have been prevented like the others? Should he have acted like he couldn't have done anything?

John had been trying to get better. He had been getting better, hadn't he? Hadn't Alex been helping him get better?

Or or had he been making him worse, but he just didn't know it?

They had read the paper that John had given to Alex. He refused to. He left it on the table.

He locked himself in his room when they went to get John.

 _ **\/\/**_

He hadn't seen anyone in days, alive or not. He had been crying a lot. They left him alone when he cried.

He was depressed. Mad at the world. He was mad that everyone had been taken from him. He was mad that he hadn't been taken with them.

But he had made a promise.

All he could hope for was that John wouldn't come back.

He wanted to be able to get over John.

 ** _\/\/_**

By the time he started going to school again, the news had spread. If anyone tried to talk to him about it, he walked away from them before they could finish. 38 people tried to console him on his first day alone.

He hated them all.

He didn't want to see any of them ever again.

But he had made a promise.

 ** _\/\/_**

When he got back to his dorm after school that day, he saw that John's paper had fallen off the table. Again. It wasn't just something that happened randomly either. It had fallen off everyday for a week now.

Someone wanted him to read it. It didn't matter who.

As as long as it wasn't John.

He picked up the paper and put it back on the table, keeping it folded. He'd read it later. He always said he would. He never did. He was under too much stress.

But he had made a promise.

 ** _\/\/_**

They were messing with him now.

He had come back to the dorm one day to find that everything John had ever drawn had been scattered across the floor. He held back tears as he collected the papers and slid them under the door to John's room.

The whispering had started again, too. He started wearing headphones more often. He didn't want to hear them anymore.

But he had made a promise.

 ** _\/\/_**

He wanted to tear that paper to shreds. It stared menacingly at him from the table everyday, screaming at him to read it. He didn't need to. He already knew why John had died.

He could have done something.

 _He should have done something._

He felt _so_ bad.

But he had made a promise.

 ** _\/\/_**

They started talking to him again. They never showed themselves, but they talked. They all told him to read the letter. They wanted to know what it said. They told him to talk to them.

He ignored them as much as he could.

There were some things he couldn't ignore, however. Like the feeling he was being watched every night, for instance. Or the crying that came from John's room every so often.

He had become so afraid.

But he had made a promise.

 _ **\/\/**_

They hadn't left him alone for days. Even Eliza had been talking non-stop. Even worse: all they talked about was John, John, _John._

Alexander was so goddamn tired of hearing and thinking about John.

He was so sick of seeing his dead friends everywhere he went.

He was so disgusted with everyone- _especially_ himself.

He was so _done_.

It took him a while to figure out how to do it. In the end, he decided it didn't matter, as long as it got done. He played his music loud in his ears to keep out all the voices begging him to stop. He intended to do this faster than pulling off a bandage.

He had stolen a boxcutter from one of his teachers earlier that day. It shook in his hand as he cried over the kitchen sink. This was it.

 _But he had made a promise._

Alex's breath hitched as the thought ran through his head.

 _Fuck promises._

He pulled up the sleeve of his sweatshirt, reached the boxcutter forward...

And promptly lost all vision.

He hadn't even done anything yet. Something was covering his eyes. It was John's letter. Alex scowled, pulling the paper away from his face and dropping it on the floor. He turned back to what he was doing before, only to have the boxcutter be torn from his grasp.

"Just let me get this over with," Alex grumbled as he reached for the blade again.

He stumbled backwards as a gust of wind carrying dozens of papers came from nowhere and hit him. They surrounded him like a tornado, keeping him from seeing anything or moving too much, and he spun around as they fluttered around him in circles.

The papers were John's drawings. Every single one.

It was beautiful.

As they spun, they pushed Alexander to get him to move. When he finally caved and began walking, he found that the papers were leading him down the hall.

 _Oh, no..._

Alex was stopped in front of the closed door of John's room, the papers still spinning. One paper broke away from the others and held itself in front of his face. It was folded and crumpled slightly.

John's letter.

"Fine." Alex snatched the paper from out of the air. "I'll read it, okay?" The voices quieted, and Alex stopped his music.

He took a deep breath, unfolded the paper, and read.

* * *

 _Hey, Alex._

 _It's me, John. But you knew that already. I need to tell you some things._

 _Remember that day we had that big fight? The one where I called you crazy and you told me to leave you alone? I just want to clear it up right now: that fight had almost nothing to do with this. I say almost because everything had to do with this. You know how it gets with depression like this. Everything makes it worse, no matter what it is._

 _Except for you. If I had that same argument with someone else, I'd blame them entirely. But I don't blame you at all. Please understand that. You helped me. You really did. For a little while after that day, when we were hanging out more, I felt a little bit of happiness, which I hadn't felt for months._

 _Of course, just my luck, it didn't last very long. I had to keep up a smile just for you, because I couldn't let you think you weren't helpful. I couldn't let you fall as far as I had for any reason. I had promised not to let anything happen to you, didn't I?_

 _You might be confused about that. How would leaving keep you from getting hurt, or, even worse, hurting yourself? Well, I had also said that I wanted you to live your life in the best possible way._

 _I decided that me being so depressed all the time wouldn't help you with that. I wasn't getting better, Alex. I was trying to, but just wasn't. I couldn't. The others had all died so fast, and I was too scared to wait and see who would be next. My brothers or sisters? You? I couldn't handle even thinking about it. I couldn't let my fears weigh you down._

 _But you can deal with things better than I can. You're strong, Alexander. Mentally strong, especially. I had been watching how you were acting these past months, and could never figure out how you were able to keep your head up through it all. Maybe because you had already been through so much in your life? Hell, maybe it was because of those supposed ghosts you had been seeing. No matter why, you can get through anything. I know y_ _ou can get through anything._

 _So, please, don't let this drown you. Don't prove me wrong. Don't let yourself down._

 _I love you, 100%, with all my heart._

 _-John Laurens_

* * *

The swirling wall of paper suddenly fell, all at once. Alex looked up with tear-filled eyes as the door to John's room opened.

And there he was.

 _"Hey, Alex..."_ Alexander fell to his knees and dropped his head into his hands as he sobbed, letting the letter flutter to the ground next to him. _"Shh...it's okay..."_

"Wh-Why did y-you stop me?" Alex cried.

 _"I promised not to let anything happen to you. I'm not breaking that promise, Alex."_

"I just want it to end."

 _"No, you don't."_

"Yes, I-"

 _"No. You don't."_ His voice was unyielding and loud. _"Deep down, you know you don't want to. You know you don't need to. I knew too. I was just too stubborn and stupid and sad to believe the truth."_

"You...you regret it?"

 _"Who wouldn't?"_

"Why?"

 _"It's pointless. Life can't get better if it ends."_ He sighed. _"What I did was selfish. Trying to help myself, and hurting others in the process. It didn't even actually help me, either. Just made me dead along with the sad I had already been feeling."_ Alex still hadn't looked at him again. _"I had already broken one of my promises to you. I'm not about to break another one. And you can't break yours either."_ Alex swallowed his cries, then nodded hesitantly.

"...Okay..." Alex slowly lifted himself onto his feet, keeping his head down. A pale blue light crept into his vision, cold air surrounding his body. John was hugging him. He started crying again. After a few minutes, he had finally felt like he had let enough out that he could speak again. "So..." Alexander said, almost smirking, "I guess you believe in that whole ghost thing now, right?" John laughed slightly.

 _"I guess I do."_


	5. Chapter 5: Alexander Hamilton

_**November 13th**_

If Alex was being completely honest, they weren't _that_ bad. In fact, he sometimes actually liked talking to them. He would let himself forget that they were dead for a little while and feel himself relax. It was nice being able to joke and laugh with his friends as if they were still there. They acted enough like themselves for it to not feel any different.

But then something would happen to remind him that it wasn't them anymore, and he would hate them again.

This was the routine until Lafayette and Hercules disappeared.

The two of them had been acting strange all day. Alex had figured out that none of them could go somewhere unless he was there, too, but that day, Laf and Herc seemed to keep forgetting that.

 _"Au revoir!"_ Laf would say cheerfully as he and Hercules headed to the front door. As soon as they got there, however, an invisible forcefield would keep them from moving any farther. _"Oh...right..."_ They glided back towards Alexander with sad faces. this happened three times.

Later that day, Alex went out to get coffee, and on the way there, Laf and Herc kept saying how much they couldn't wait to get their favorite cookies. Twice, they were reminded that they were dead. Twice, they forgot five minutes later. As the group of ghosts and a boy crossed the street to get to a coffee shop, the two who wouldn't stop talking suddenly...stopped talking. Alex just sighed in relief.

Alex got a coffee, sat on a bench on the sidewalk, and took a deep breath. John had told him to go outside more often so he wouldn't always be cooped up with the same bad air and memories. It was helping, for sure. Sometimes they would all come with him, sometimes just John was there, and sometimes he was by himself. Either way, it was nice to be out.

As Alexander sat and thought and watched living people walk by, he noticed how calm everything was. Quiet. Not because no one had spoken to him in a while. Not because not many other people were outside that day. Not even because he and John hadn't fought in a couple weeks. The quiet he had noticed was in his head. He found that he wasn't necessarily happy, but he wasn't horribly depressed anymore either. He was just...fine.

Fine was enough.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a serene minute.

 _"What are they doing?"_ Alex opened his eyes again at Angelica's question.

"What?" Alex asked, barely opening his mouth so no one thought he was talking to himself. Angelica simply pointed past him. Alex turned his gaze as he took a sip of his coffee, almost spitting it out again when he saw what his friends were looking at.

Hercules and Lafayette stood motionless in the middle of the empty street. As if they knew they were being watched, they turned around to face Alex, who wanted to stand and go towards them in intrigue, but didn't because he knew he was still in public. The ghosts in the street smiled widely at him and waved, then turned to each other and held hands.

For a fleeting moment, they appeared in full, bright, clear, happy color.

Alexander flinched as a car sped through them and they exploded into puffs of pale blue smoke.

He he went back to the dorm after that and waited in a traumatized silence for the two of them to come back.

They never did.

 _ **\/\/**_

 _Would I be considered a bad person and friend if I said I was fine with them actually being gone?_

Alex had wondered this several times in the past month couple weeks. When Laf and Hercules still hadn't shown up again by then, Alexander and the rest of his friends came to the conclusion that they had "moved on". None of them understood why or how, but they didn't mind too much.

 _"They're in a better place now."_ Eliza had assured him. He sure hoped so.

Eventually, he got used to them not being there. It was like they had never come back in the first place.

* * *

 ** _January 20th_**

His blankets hadn't been pulled off of him that night, but it was still too cold for him to sleep. John was holding him again.

Alexander sighed and got out of bed, stepping right through the wall of cold air. He felt a stab of sadness, which he assumed meant that John was upset that Alex had gotten up, but he couldn't sleep and needed coffee. As soon as he stepped out of his room, however, he found he couldn't move any farther.

Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy all stood frozen, scattered throughout the room. Not only were they not moving, but they looked as if they were unable to move at all. The room they were in was warm, too. No, it was hotter than a summer in the Caribbean, Alexander decided. And their eyes...

Their eyes stared ahead like usual, but, now...they were full of fear.

 _Strange...Well, stranger than usual._

"What's going on?" Alexander asked hesitantly. He didn't get an answer.

 _"Why are they..."_ John didn't need to finish his question.

"I don't know..." Alexander responded. He took a few slow steps towards Angelica and Eliza, who stood next to each other. They still didn't move.

 _"I think something's wrong with them."_

"Obviously-" Angelica's eyes suddenly darted to Alexander.

 _"I'm so sorry, Alexander,"_ Angelica whispered, sounding like she was crying.

"Wh-what?" Eliza slowly reached a hand out to Alex.

 _"We are so, so sorry."_ Alexander just stared at her, unsure what to do. When he glanced down at her extended hand, he noticed apparitional blue flames licking at the edges of her body. He looked back up and gasped quietly.

Eliza and Angelica-even Peggy who was still frozen on the other side of the room-had gone back to being...in full color.

Seeing them like this again, Alexander couldn't suppress the urge-want- _need_ to take Eliza's hand. To feel and know that someone was real.

He held out his hand, but as soon as he touched her hand, she flinched away as if the touch had burned her. All at once, the flames engulfed her and Angelica's bodies, and they screamed. For a good three seconds, they screeched like banshees and Alexander jumped back from the bright light and loud noise. The ghost fire burned for a moment, then went out from the ground to the ceiling.

And Angelica and Eliza were gone.

 _"Holy..."_ John wasn't visibly or physically there, but his surprise and concern was obvious.

Peggy still stood in the far corner of the room, staring with fear into nothingness. Alexander watched as she turned to face him, then silently flickered out like a light.

The he room went dark. Alexander couldn't move.

 _"They're gone..."_ John said quietly. _"They're gone."_

 ** _\/\/_**

It was always so quiet. It wasn't as cold anymore, either. John was still there, though, but he barely ever showed himself anymore.

A weight-several weights, really-had been inexplicably lifted off of Alexander's soul. He wasn't sure why or how, but he felt...better?

It was strange, feeling better.

* * *

 ** _February 27th_**

The crying from John's room had become louder and more frequent as the days went on. It worried Alexander to no end.

The deep sadness had come back, too.

They had fought again that day. It had been bad. Alexander's hand had been cut when John threw an already broken mug at him. John had immediately apologized like crazy and disappeared after Alexander had finished tending to his wound.

The rest of the day, the only sign that John was still around was the sound of crying.

 ** _\/\/_**

Alexander woke up when the cold entered his room. A pressure pushed down on the end of his bed, and he sat up to face John.

He looked different, oddly enough. He seemed older, more tired.

"Hey."

 _"Hey."_

Silence.

 _"So...I figured it out."_

"What?"

 _"Why they all acted so weird before...um...before they moved on. I figured it out."_

"What's the reason?"

 _"They were acting the same as they did just before they died."_

Silence. Understanding.

"Oh."

 _"Yeah."_

"That makes sense, I guess-"

 _"On the exact six month anniversary of their deaths, too."_

"True."

 _"Alex...what day is it?"_

"...The...27th..."

 _"And how have I been acting lately?"_

Silence. Understanding. Fear.

"No..."

 _"Yes."_

"How do you know for sure? The others didn't know."

 _"The others also didn't know that they were going to die."_

"...But you did."

A solemn nod.

 _"But I did."_

Silence. Understanding. Fear. Pain.

"So...is this..."

 _"No. This isn't the end for us. This is not goodbye."_

"But-"

 _"No."_ A gentle hand touching his cheek. _"You will see us again. I promise."_

"You...you promise?"

 _"I promise."_ A single tear was wiped away. _"Get some sleep, Alexander. Have good dreams. Take care of yourself. Take your time. Live a good life."_ Alexander closed his eyes as John kissed him on the forehead. When he opened them again, John stood before him in full color one last time. He headed towards the door, but turned back around just before he left. _"Hey, throw something at Jefferson for me? I was never able to hit him."_ Alexander couldn't help but smile.

"I will."

 _"You promise?"_

"I promise."

 _"Good. See you later."_ John smirked at him, then left the room. A door closed across the hall, and then, surprising Alex, a flash of light and a loud bang erupted from inside John's room.

"See you later."

* * *

 ** _February 28th_**

Alexander almost slept in that morning, which was astonishing for multiple reasons. When he did get out of bed, he noticed that the sun shone brightly through the window, and that his body was filled with a comfortable warm. He ate a small breakfast, then went out to get a coffee before heading to class.

All of which he did alone.

He wasn't lonely. Just alone.

 ** _\/\/_**

Alexander walked into class with a bit of a bounce in his step and a faint, subconscious smile on his face. He sat behind Jefferson, and as soon as he could, he threw a ball of paper at the curly hair in front of him. Jefferson spun around with a sneer on his face.

"What do you want?" Alex just shrugged. Jefferson looked him over, then his face softened into a small grin. "You look...better."

"I am," Alexander answered.

"Hell, I'd even venture to say that you look happy." Alexander just smiled and took in a fresh breath of air.

"I am."

* * *

 **Hey, so this took longer than anticipated to finish...oops.**

 **Anyway, I honestly don't know why I wrote this. I guess I was just in a "make people upset" mood? I think this is one of my best works, though, so I like it oddly enough.**

 **I have some things to say.**

 **1\. Sorry.**

 **2\. You know how the description for this story said that I cried while writing it? Yeah, I wasn't kidding. Several times during the writing of this (writing the line "died on impact" in the first chapter, to be specific), I felt my heart drop and everything hurt and it sucked.**

 **3\. Sorry again.**

 **4\. In chapter 4, pay attention to what was underlined in John's letter, and what he said at the end of the chapter. I was basically using him to talk to all of you in those instances.**

 **5\. If you ever feel as depressed as John was, enough to feel the need to commit suicide, I beg of you, please please please talk to someone. And if that person makes fun of you or something for feeling like this, tell them to go FUCK themselves, and then keep looking for help. If you can't find someone directly around you to help, feel free to message me, or, for more professional (and probably better) help, the amazing author ColdInMyProfessions has a list of suicide hotline numbers for a bunch of countries in their profile.**

 **Alright...this is over. And its the first one I've finished. I feel like a milestone has been crossed.**

 **I need to figure out how to write other stuff now. Ugh.**

 **I love you!**

 **See you later!**


End file.
